


When you're home

by Nelira



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Historical, M/M, Mutual Pining, Queer Historical Setting, attempt at canon compliance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelira/pseuds/Nelira
Summary: Aziraphale was pacing his bookshop restlessly, it had been a few years since he had last seen Crowley. They had seen each other a few times that year when Crowley rescued him in 1941, but by now, it had been 20 years since then. It wasn’t that he was worried, not at all (or so he told himself). All in all, Aziraphale was just starting to crave some company; specifically, one who understood him so well. He repeated to himself that he just needed to feel a little less lonely after all.---Crowley and Aziraphale find each other in London in 1961.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019





	When you're home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [in-the-wonderland-of-my-head](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=in-the-wonderland-of-my-head).



> This is my pinch-hit holiday swap for @in-the-wonderland-of-my-head for the @goodomensholidayswap. This fanfiction was mostly inspired by the queer historical prompt. I also tried to write a fluffy fic. It is set in 1961 and at the beginning, there are some expressions in Polari. I hope you enjoy it!

The translation for the words in Polari used in this fanfiction is [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zMTak8lfYmDxzXlKnddTk-HoAhfh5NFxZ-XaGngt7zY/edit?usp=sharing).

* * *

Aziraphale was pacing his bookshop restlessly, it had been a few years since he had last seen Crowley. They had seen each other a few times that year when Crowley rescued him in 1941, but by now, it had been 20 years since then. It wasn’t that he was worried, not at all (or so he told himself). All in all, Aziraphale was just starting to crave some company; specifically, one who understood him so well. He repeated to himself that he just needed to feel a little less lonely after all. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the shop's doorbell. Right, he still had the bookshop to tend to, he told himself to pull it together. There was no point in worrying about this.

He was relieved to find out that the newcomer was by no means an interested customer, but a friend, so to say.

“Auntie, what have you been doing? We have nanti varda your ecaf in weeks!” Linda, a young gay man who lived in the area reproached him.

“Well, you know, just running the bookshop. Things to do, books to sell!”

“Books to sell? Auntie, we both know that’s nishta happening. All of Soho knows it, and I'd bet that all of England too!”

Aziraphale grimaced, the boy was right about that, but he still adored his bookshop! By the time he opened his mouth to complain, the boy had already started talking again.

“Nanti polari, it’s all bona, but really, I pity any soul who tries to buy a book from your collection, I know you treat them like your own bijou feele. I’m just saying that you need to get out more! Come on! You’re still a proper fruit! You just need to get yourself out there.”

“There are plenty of omi-polone who would think you’re absolutely dolly!” “Look, just come over to the pub ajax Sandy’s tonight! It’ll be bona! And you still have to meet Ellie!”

“Fine, you meddling chicken, I’ll meet your omi tonight," Aziraphale conceded at last.

Aziraphale sometimes felt uncomfortable among so many strangers, but he had to admit that Soho’s underground scene was very warm and welcoming. Besides, he knew that if the lilies arrived, things could go awry in the blink of an eye. Being there was the best way to assure that none of the youngsters got arrested.

He had to admit that he had a soft spot for this tight-knit community in Soho, and had ended up having a hand in keeping a lot of these "kids" safe. He felt accomplished every time he could bring another unsure and scared human to smile bravely and find themselves a new safe place and family of their choice in Soho. Successfully distracted for a while, Aziraphale felt a smile form on his lips as he got back to arranging his books.

* * *

Hell could be such jerks when they wanted to. Look, he was doing absolutely great with his own temptations, he didn’t need any long-term assignments to add to his workload! Why America? And two decades! He was sick of America. People from there were too easily tempted, how could there be so many people with such a sense of self-importance? (Mind you, Europe had plenty of egocentric assholes, but he was missing home at the moment and he'd give anything to get back to London) He could barely reign in his excitement at finally being able to go back home. 

Delighted to be back at his flat in Mayfair, he slumped down on his throne and considered falling asleep for a while. Eventually, he decided against it. He didn’t trust himself to wake up before at least a year had passed, and he didn’t feel like missing any more years during this century.

He grudgingly got up and sauntered towards his plants, which, in normal circumstances, should not have been alive anymore; not that it mattered, as none of them even dared to wilt.

“I wonder what new restaurants I could go to with the angel.” He started talking as he watered the plants. “Will probably need to do some research though… S’ been a while since the last time. I wonder what he’s been up to.”

The maranta leuconeura he was watering perked up. It wasn’t very often that Crowley showed any sort of feelings to his plants, except anger; which was significant in itself of how much he had missed his friend. Some of his older plants knew that when he talked about Aziraphale, he was usually calmer, and where a bit relieved to hear this, not too much though).

“Anyway, I bet he’ll already know all the best little places in London right now, we’ll just go wherever he wants to. Yep, that’s perfect!” He seemed satisfied with himself as he finished checking the last of his plants and left his plant mister on his table. (His newer ones were completely shell-shocked by how unmeticulous and distracted their carer had been, but they weren’t so naive as to think this would happen again.)

“Y’know what? I think I’ll check out the nightlife in Soho as long as it’s still dark and then go visit the angel in the morning. Must’ve missed me at least a bit, right? Well, I was bored without him, that’s for sure.”

* * *

When Aziraphale stepped into the pub, he started looking for Linda. The pub was much fuller than he had expected and he kept bumping into other people who were drinking and laughing together.

Eventually it was Linda who caught him by surprise. 

“Az! You came!!! See, this is the auntie from the bookshop I told you about!” She turned towards her boyfriend.

“No way! You’re kidding me. That bookshop is always closed! I’m jealous that you managed to get in.”

“You just have to get lucky the first time. Once you get to know this old fruit, it’s easy to come by! He’s actually very kind and supportive. The bookshop is practically the only calm meeting space mostly in the open, it’s a wonderful atmosphere, and Mr. Fell has made sure that it’s the perfect refuge for any member in need of the community.” Linda boasted to her partner.

“Dear, you are exaggerating quite a bit. I just do what anybody else would do for the Soho youths.” Aziraphale deflected the compliment.

As the night went on, Aziraphale found himself settling into comfortable conversations with a lot of nice people he had already met in his bookshop and, strange as it felt, he could feel some sort of belonging in the group of humans; it was a nice change of pace. Regardless, after a few hours he ended up feeling the need to go back to his bookshop, wanting to get back to reading one of his favorites.

* * *

Crowley relished in the conversations he had with the people in the club. It hadn’t been too difficult to find this hidden corner of the Soho nightlife, he still knew his way around the city, this place where so many came to be themselves for a few hours before returning to the cold unaccepting rules of society. 

He could relate to having to hide from prying eyes, there was a reason why he felt more comfortable here than in other circles… It would all be ideal if only he weren’t alone tonight. A sharp yearning filled his musings, certain to sour his mood. He tried to push the thoughts away. _He was definitely too sober yet_ , he thought as he asked for another drink.

As Crowley learned about the current lives of the people around him, he found himself once again amazed at how quickly humans changed. He was having fun trying to guess what this new language meant from a few strangers quite eager to fill him in, if only because of Anthony’s nonsensical attempts at translating the words, which kept his company entertained and made him feel that he’d probably be right back to feeling a part of London in no time.

A few humans came up to him, hoping to find a pretty hook up for the night, leaving shortly after because Crowley wasn’t really party to it, and however much he enjoyed the initial flirting, he didn’t appreciate that it brought up the feelings he was trying to ignore to the front of his mind. He ended up stepping out of the club, trying to decide whether to go back in or call it a night and head to his flat. 

He heard the door open behind him and turned to look at whoever else was leaving as well. His golden eyes widened from behind his glasses as they fixed onto a familiar figure.

“Hey there Angel,” Crowley tried to hide his joy under his evident surprise.

“Crowley! What are you doing here my dear?” Aziraphale knew that his eyes betrayed an obvious mixture of relief and shock but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. 

“Just having a bit of fun,” he replied nonchalantly. “But I should be asking you! How come I’m finding you here? Thought you didn’t enjoy this bustle. You’re always with your books and such.”

“Well, yes, this is certainly unusual for me,” Aziraphale admitted softly, “but a friend insisted and, well, I was curious. I didn’t really have anything else to do anyway…”

“You’re just full of surprises Angel,” Crowley said with a soft laugh.

Aziraphale had a lot of things he wanted to say and ask, but most of all, he needed time. He’d wanted to see Crowley for what felt akin to a lifetime (a human one that is), and he didn’t want to part anytime soon.

“Fancy some drinks at the shop? There’s been some amazing grape harvests these last few years.” Aziraphale hoped that Crowley would say yes. 

“Of course Angel,” Crowley accepted immediately.

* * *

“So, my dear, what have you been doing these last few decades?” asked Aziraphale with a tinge of sadness and wariness in his voice, once they were settled in the backroom of the bookshop. He was worried that he might be overstepping, but he couldn’t just dismiss the worry he felt that something was still off between them.

“Angel! It was horrible! They sent me to America! S’ just so boring and I’m sooo glad to be back!”

Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief, so Crowley hadn’t been avoiding him again after all. His thoughts slowed down for what felt like the first time in ages (even if a few years weren’t supposed to seem so long for an immortal being).

“Why did Downstairs station you there anyway?” Aziraphale asked sympathetically.

“Oh, as soon as the States entered the war, Downstairs wanted me there pulling strings. Which was way too boring, what was I supposed to do about that? Tensions were already extremely high thanks to that Zimmermann thing, so there wasn’t much more to do.”

“Wait, the bombs… you can’t have had anything to do with those, right dear?” Aziraphale fretted.

“Of course not Angel! I’m still astounded at that, I’d never seen humans go to such extreme measures…” Crowley had an expression of sadness, “I can’t believe Downstairs gave me the credit for that one… The war needed to stop; but all those people were innocent, there were kids! Y’know?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley’s pained expression and ventured to put his own hand on Crowley’s.

“I know dear, you’ve never wanted that.”

Crowley fell silent at the sudden contact, before looking up at Aziraphale’s worried gaze. After a moment he went back to his usual playfulness.

“And what about you, Angel? It seems you’ve been having fun without me, I’d never expect to find you at a club!”

“Oh, dear, I understand the confusion, but, as I said before, it was most definitely a one time occasion, I’m really not that enthusiastic about clubs but I understand why humans are keen on them.”

“Well that’s a shame, here I was wondering if we could go for drinks at one of those clubs.” Crowley teased him earnestly.

This idea made Aziraphale immediately rethink his response, eager to try his dear's plan and amending his statement to let him know that he'd very much like that.

“I’m positively certain that for that purpose I could take to clubs. Lovely places, really.”

Crowley smirked and felt his heart stop for almost a whole minute; his corporation might not have needed it, but it still faced him with the feelings that threatened to spill out of him.

“Well, before jumping directly to clubs, how about something more standard? What would you say to dinner at a restaurant tomorrow? Your pick.” He said to reassure his Angel, after all, he'd never push him to do something that could very possibly make him uncomfortable.

“That would be wonderful!” Aziraphale smiled brightly, increasing the warm feeling that had been building inside of Crowley's chest.

They spent the next few hours sharing stories of the last two decades and remembering older ones that they had lived together. Talking about everything but the one memory they kept avoiding from 1862. They didn't know where that conversation would lead but they weren't going to talk about that until it became absolutely necessary (which wouldn't be until a few years later). At some point, Crowley took off his glasses, and by the time he realized it, he had already misplaced them. When he got up to leave, promising to meet Aziraphske at the restaurant the next night, he just miracled himself some new ones, as the ones he'd been wearing were nowhere to be found. (A few days later, Aziraphale found them under Crowley's sofa and figured that keeping them for a while wouldn’t hurt)

* * *

That night, Crowley didn't waste any time being "fashionably late", on the contrary, he was there quite before their meeting time. They were having dinner at Sweetings, after Aziraphale had mentioned how it was still open and how it had been a while since he had last eaten there. (Crowley couldn't deny that he was also enticed by the possibility of having their signature drink again, he could never turn down a good drink, much less if he could enjoy it while having dinner with his angel). 

Unlike the night before, they didn't talk quite as much during their dinner, basking in the quiet comfort of being together. Finally, Aziraphale spoke.

"Are you planning on leaving London again anytime soon?" Aziraphale ventured to ask, bracing himself for disappointment.

"Not at all, Angel," Crowley answered honestly. "Why? I won't bother you if you don't want me to, that's a promise." Crowley wondered if the angel hadn't been as content with seeing him as he had first thought.

"Quite the opposite, my dear." Aziraphale tried to put Crowley's mind at rest. "Things have been rather lonely without you," he admitted in a low voice, suddenly scared of who might hear.

"Wh- Really?" Crowley barely managed to answer, astounded as he was.

"Yes, it's completely true. I apologize for what I said before… My dear, of course I missed you, you are my closest friend." At this point, Aziraphale was gazing at Crowley's eyes, even through the almost non-existent transparency that his sunglasses offered. He was admitting to something he wasn't even supposed to think, but it wouldn't be the first thing after all. And right at this moment, he felt able to say it aloud and Crowley deserved to know it.

If anyone had told Crowley that Aziraphale would admit to their friendship in words that night, he'd have thought they had a few loose screws. As it was, his face betrayed him and a genuine smile showed on his features. 

"Then, Angel, because I'm your friend," Crowley took a second to savour that term, which until now had been avoided, "you're not going to be lonely again, I'll prove it to you."

"My dear, I think you've proved it plenty already," Aziraphale smiled fondly, holding no doubts that, as much as he still had to figure out, as long as Crowley stayed by his side, he'd always have a home.


End file.
